If fustigating hipsters is wrong, I don’t want to be right

HEY YOU: I’m aware this is well-trodden territory, but I feel a song coming on (well, at least a blog entry). So pipe down and read. Or don’t, and lose out. Whatever you decide, let us proceed to the sacrifice.

This vid may be a little late to the hipster-bashing party, but referring to the desperately cool as “dickheads” is new to me (perhaps it’s a UK thing) and thus gets a pass
+ a valid excuse to neck-punch the hipster movement is always welcome
+ the aptly named ditty, “Being a Dickhead’s Cool,” by British minstrels The Grand Spectacular is both catchy and smirk-worthy
= don’t be a square and enjoy it…

The 21st century hipster is a special breed of loser who deserves to be verbally and psychologically dismantled. Why? Because neo-hipsterism is founded on contrarian bullshit (to clarify, not the original bebopping beatnik hipsters of the ’40s and ’50s; them I dig, daddy-o). And when you use bullshit to fasten your persona together, I daresay yours is a shoddily mortared identity.

Everything about the new hipsters is painstakingly manufactured to give off the vibe that they just don’t care. They’re walking contradictions. They eschew materialism; unless, of course, it’s vintage. They conform in their nonconformity. They believe appearing uncool is the foundation of cool; in other words, traditionally poor taste is good taste. They take great pains to avoid labels and being labeled, yet they all dress the same and act the same. Plus, they’ve emasculated my cherished Pabst Blue Ribbon. You bastards.

Here’s a graphic of concentric circles depicting the vicious cycle of ephemeral coolness that is hipster fashion. Tragically accurate…

Living just outside of Williamsburg, Brooklyn (southern Greenpoint, to be exact) at the turn of the millennium, I had the dubious privilege of being at the epicenter of the hipster revival.

Don’t get me wrong, at first I thought hipsters were pretty stylin’, with their old-school ringer t-shirts, thrift-store blazers, Chuck Taylor All-Stars, Manhattan Portage messenger bags and meticulously tattered rags. Looking like they just fell out of bed, yet sociable (little did I know how much they paid to look that way). It was as if nerds had finally embraced their tastes, shed their insecurities and somehow become trendy. Hipsterism was looking-glass coolness, and I was somewhat beguiled by these invariably bespectacled geeks with intriguing taste and seemingly individualistic opinions. Until I started seeing them everywhere. And realized most of them weren’t so bright. Or cool. Or individualistic. Or nearsighted.

See, when uncool people initiate a movement to define what’s cool, the result is a patently obvious shit sandwich. Which is exactly what hipsterism has quickly become. But, like most anti-Darwinian species of human, hipsters have thrived and evolved.

Think I’m making this shit up? Then have a gander at this kickass spread from Paste magazine, which illustrates my point far better than words ever could (even if you’ve gazed at it before, get over yourself and goggle at it again; it’s so totally worth it):

(click below to initiate growth spurt)

Then watch this recent commercial from Australian agency DTDigital, Melbourne. Just awesome.

Your hipster-bashing tutorial is now complete. Let’s never mention them again. Well, maybe only occasionally. When they really deserve it.

07.21.2010 "Big," Macy Gray. For anyone seeking another Macy Gray album on par with "On How Life Is," look no further. Though not as instantly catchy, with repeated listenings it's simply euphoric. "Big" showcases Macy's highly under-appreciated wordsmithery, her peerless phrasing and that otherworldly helium voice—the most engaging and expressive female voice I've heard since Nina Simone.

02.18.2011 “Return to the Sea,” Islands. Following the brilliant, short, happy life of Montreal indie rock band The Unicorns and their gem, “Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?” frontman Nick Diamonds and drummer J’aime Tambeur emerged from the ashes to form Islands—and one of the more compellingly quirky, epic, sprawling and distinctive albums known to man.

09.15.2011 "Fuzzy" and "Mighty Joe Moon," Grant Lee Buffalo. Part Wilco, part Eddie Vedder, part Elliott Smith. And yet, completely original. Why more people haven’t heard Grant Lee Buffalo is a crime against good taste. Two of the best albums of the ‘90s right here, masterfully written, voiced and shredded by Grant-Lee Phillips.

12.7.2011 "Mr. Wizard," R.L. Burnside. If this old school, north Mississippi juke joint bluesman doesn't (at the very least) get your head a-bobbin' or toe a-tappin', then you're fucked—because you have no soul. That's a fact. Burnside, a toothless, badass septuagenarian who's now passed away, shreds Mississippi Delta blues—right when it turned electric. Saw him in concert back in 2001, and it was easily one of the top 3 shows I've ever had the privilege to attend.